Rain
by the ticking clock
Summary: Rain washes all the blood away...a one-shot focusing on Will and Jem, fighting, demons, and clockwork monsters. Reviews are appreciated.


Jem had always hated rain.

It fell in hard, lashing drops, soaking his hair and clothes, and stabbing at his eyes as he walked, sending him stinging slaps across his cheeks as he ducked his head, pulling his hat further down as if it would help shield his face from the downpour.

Beside him, Will was walking swiftly, as if the rain did not affect him. He had his face raised towards it, as though he welcomed the sting of it against his cheeks. How his parabatai was not ill or frozen to death Jem had no idea. Perhaps he was simply used to the rain's cool sting; He had wandard the streets of London in downpours readily enough.

"Remind me again," Jem said, cutting his eyes away from his parabatai and scanning the dark, empty streets. "_Why _we are doing this?"

Will did not look at him, but Jem sensed the corners of his friend's mouth twitching up as he said, "Oh James...your lack of confidence in me is most appalling indeed."

Jem rolled his eyes. Will's casually sarcastic and lofty tone was one he knew all too well. "And you really think the demons are here? that our sources were correct?"

Will stopped, tilting his head up, his blue eyes wide. Jem could sense his tension, but the other boy's voice was quite measured when he said, "Certainly. The clockwork creatures have been here as well." He gestured, sharply, with his chin, at the skid marks on the street, the furrows in the cobblestone. "We appear to be in the right place. Now all we-"

A twitch of movement, a soft click of sound, and Jem's instincts kicked in. "Will! Down!" He cried, dropping to the ground the instant the worlds left his lips.

The rain streaked stone was hard and cool under his body as he pressed himself flat to the street, risking a glance to his right to make sure Will was down as well.

The other boy was grinning, his blue eyes piercing and wide, bright with the fever and adrenaline of battle. "It appears," He said. "That our friends have arrived."

A metal hand descended towards them, fingers creaking and clacking as the contraption opened it's fists, ready to grab them, lift them, tear them-

Jem rolled out of the way, rising to his feet in the same motion. With a flick of his wrist, the sword slid free from it's concealed place inside his dragon head cane, gleaming in the light.

The creatures they faced were far from human. Gigantic metal monsters their faces were scarp metal compiled in bizarre ways. It was clear that their hands and arms were the deadly pieces of the machine. Their arms were long and far-reaching, their hands wide and fingers five crushing blades of steel, with razored edges and spiked tips. If their fingers closed around a person, they would certainly be dead.

The demons were another matter entirely. They were small, snake-like creatures, with sharp fangs that dripped poison, scaly blue and green skin, gleaming yellow eyes and spiked tails. They were built for fast, whip-like motion, and Jem knew they were merely a distraction from the real threat, which were the automatons.

The creatures apperead content to wait until the Shadowhunters attacked. They stood silent and staring, the demons baring their teeth, and the clockwork creatures whirring and clicking, as though they were trying to communicate.

Jem glanced at Will. The other boy drew two Seraph blades from his belt and tossed one to Jem. He yanked a throwing dagger from the folds of his sleeve and settled into a crouch, narrowing his eyes. He smiled, a feral flash of his teeth, and cocked an eyebrow. _are you ready?_

Jem mimicked his parabatai's position, bending low to the ground and tilting his face up to lock eyes with their opponents, tightening his hold on the Seraph Blade. He bent his head and whispered the name of the weapon, the angelic name tingling with power as it passed his lips: _Michael_

The sword blazed up.

Jem took a deep, settling breath and locked eyes with Will. _Go_. he said with his eyes.

He knew without looking what Will was about to do. As Jem flung himself towards the largest snake-like demon, Will hurled the knife at the automaton's face, where the clicking of it's inner mechanism was, where the heart, so to speak, or the creature was.

There was a screech of metal on metal, and the sound of metal joints snapping and splitting-

The demon Jem faced hissed and snapped it's teeth, tail whipping at Jem's head faster than his eyes could follow. He ducked, using the opportunity to move forward, slicing at the creatures neck. Green blood sprayed. Some of it landed on Jem's arm; it burned like acid fire.

in a fluid serious of movements, Jem and Will danced and fought, sometimes brushing against each other, other times they were yards apart, but Jem knew, as he always did, exactly where his parabatai was during the battle. He could sense Will, even as he knew Will could sense him. He knew Will could feel his as the adrenaline burned through Jem's body, as the breaths sawed in and out of his lungs, as he began to grow weaker.

The fight was taking it's toll.

Jem injuries were slowing him down. Blood dripped into his eyes from a deep gash on his head, and his arms were shaking with exhaustion. He stumbled, struggling to clear his head, to strike one last blow-

The automaton Will had not managed to kill seized him, it's metal hands digging in tight, the blades slicing through his gear, and into his flash.

Jem did not have enough air left in his lungs to scream. Black spots danced across his eyes as he fought for breath, as the blood trickled down his chest and back and side...

_"James!" _

Will's scream of anguish cut through the haze.

Jem saw with a sudden clarity, the knife, sailing towards him, spinning and twisting through the air as it flew. He stretched out his hand, fingers groping weakly. He had to catch it, he had to-

His fingers closed around the hilt.

He could hear Will, shouting, and striking at the automaton. His friend was surrounded by the ashes of dead demons, and the twisted metal of destroyed automatons. His face was twisted and wild. Desperate.

_It's all right_, Jem wanted to say. _Everything is going to be fine, Will._

but why would he say that? when everything clearly was not all right?

Jem tightened his hold on the hilt of the throwing dagger, struggling to hold on to it. His hands were slippery with blood and ichor, and his mind was clouded. He had to-

Will was climbing up the automaton now, seraph blades gleaming in his hands, illuminating the twisted metal of the creature, and the blood and sweat on his face.

Jem sucked in what little air he could hold, and threw the knife.

It struck perfectly. The automaton released an odd, whirring cry and the metal hand tightened for a moment around Jem, the blades digging in even deeper, before it went slack, sending Jem tumbling back down to the hard ground.

The impact was agonizing, but all Jem could do for a moment was lie still and gasp and choke on the salty blood that filled his mouth, and struggle to breathe. He clenched his eyes shut. In, out, in, out.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe...

_"James!"_

The rain was not so harsh now, he thought a little dreamily. It pounded away the blood, let it run in rivers down the streets...it was almost beautiful, the steady sound of it-

Hands were on him, and Will was turning him over, lifting him upright, hands shaking as he frantically sketched itrazes over Jem's wounds.

The burn of the stele cleared Jem's head, and he blinked rain and blood out of his eyes, looking up at his friend.

Will's eyes were a little wild, his face streaked with rain, or was it tears? his lips pressed together in a hard line. "James?" He whispered. "Can you hear me?"

Jem forced his lips to move, for the air to rush up his throat, tickle his tongue, for words to form and spill out of his mouth. "Will-"

"Oh Thank God." Will released a pent-up breath and ducked his head, pressing his forehead briefly against Jem's chest. He pulled away after a moment, and tightened his hold on Jem's arm. "I'm going to help you stand now," He said softly, his tone soothing. "And we are going to go home."

Home. The institute. Jem allowed Will to pull him to his feet. He staggered, clutching at his parabatai for support. Will slid Jem's arm over his shoulders and pulled his parabatai closer, bearing most of Jem's weight for him, half lifting him off the ground.

Jem's vision swam and he gasped, clenching his eyes shut tighter.

"Just breathe." Will said quietly. "We'll be there soon, and then Charlotte can take a better look at you."

The rain was cold, but soothing now. It washed over Jem's face like the tears did, but the icy chill of it was constant, as constant as the burn of his wounds. It was like being bathed in a river, as soothing as it was pounding and cold.

"Will," Jem gasped as his friend led him up the stairs and opened the institute door. "I hate the rain."

Will blinked. "I think you're delirious, James." He said quietly, but Jem thought he detected a trace of humor behind his words.

Jem leaned his blood-soaked, wet head against his parabatai's shoulder. "Maybe I am."

He felt, rather than saw Will smile. "Well, James. Tonight was certainly exciting, wouldn't you agree?"

Jem thought back to the fight, the blood, the pain, the fire in Will's eyes, the harsh pounding of the rain against the cobblestone streets, the sting of it on his cheeks, the coolness of it as it washed through his hair. He thought of Will, lifting his face up to the harsh lashing of the storm, his eyes wide and open to the churning sky. He thought of the blood that the rain had washed away.

"Yes," He murmured. Somehow they had gotten to the infirmary. He was surrounded by urgent voices, bright light and steles, but all he saw was the rain beating against the windows, and Will's anxious face.

Jem had never liked the rain, but it washed away the blood. It washed away the tears, it cooled the fever as it rose off of him. Rain was cleansing.

He closed his eyes, leaned his head back against the pillows, and squeezed Will's hand, listening to the rain lash against the windows.

Maybe he could learn to love rain after all.


End file.
